


I Hate to Love

by Wildfire



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angry Sex, Hate to Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 13:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildfire/pseuds/Wildfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony do not get along, but that doesn't mean there's no attraction between the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate to Love

I Hate to Love  
By Wildfire

Tony Stark was the most infuriating man Steve knew. He had nothing of the calm ease he’d known in Howard. Tony was loud, always thought he knew what was best, always had to have the last word, and always knew exactly what buttons to push. Steve was sure that, at any moment, someone was going to assassinate the man just to get him to shut up. Hell he might do it for them!

Steve had asked Fury four times to find a way to pull Stark from his team. Stark may be a good man, but he was wrong for this team. He never listened to directions, he took stupid risks, he refused to train with them in maneuvers. He was a blasted alcoholic! 

There was simply no way things could be expected to continue as they had been, and so the fights started. At first, it was under the disguise of simple sparing, but that disappeared quickly enough when Tony started wearing his suit to be able to match the Captain's strength. Each fight got more intense until, eventually, they started taking them out of town so not to ruin the building. 

Steve had never really hated anyone in his life, but he thought that might have changed with Stark. He already knew the playboy hated him. 

Steve stood leaning on his knees panting. His shield clasped tightly in his grip. Stark stood 20 feet in front of him and, even in his armor, Steve could tell he was favoring his right leg. Their fights had grown to a point where to escalate them anymore would be literally risking the other person’s life. The part of that that scared Steve was that he was seriously considering it still. He wanted to put Tony down, to take that smug grin off his face and shove it down the man’s throat. They were both hurting, but neither one was ready to stop the fight. No, the fight only stopped once one of them was down, and right now they both stood. They both watched each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Steve could wait Tony out, Tony had no patience, but today he was the one that made the move. He stood and threw his shield with all his might at the armored man. He knew Tony would deflect the shield and he heard the blast to know the man had, he didn’t bother looking though. He was running straight toward the man with every ounce of speed his enhanced body allowed. He smiled when he saw Tony try to take flight to avoid him, but it was too late, he was there. He slammed into the armored body with a grunt, taking them both down. Landing on metal was never a nice experience. He quickly rolled them as he saw Tony bring his hands up. If Tony fired his phasers at him, this close he’d not only lose the battle but, possibly, his life. The thought that Tony would even consider this option infuriated the solider more and he kept them rolling, only stopping when he felt his shield. He grabbed it and thrust it down on Tony just as Tony fired the phasers. The heat was horrible and Steve had to turn his head away, sweat dripping down his face. 

With a large growl he bunched his muscles and slammed the shield down into Tony’s hands. A cry of pain came from the suit and Steve wondered if he’d broken the genius’s wrist with that move. He knew if he did he’d be at the receiving end of a large lecture from Banner. At that moment though Steve didn’t care, instead he kept the shield pressed tightly to Tony’s chest and now trapped hands. He leaned forward.

“Yeild” He growled. 

Tony’s visor slide up, his face was red and he was panting for breath as hard as Steve was. He glared at his Captain but no words escaped his mouth.  
A twig snapped to the right of them and Steve knew they were about to be pulled apart. The fight would end without Tony’s yield.

He pushed on the shield again. “YEILD” he repeated, his face now inches from Tony’s, daring the man do something. Anything but allow the fight to end without a yield. 

What Tony did next shocked Steve. He found his mouth smashed to Tony’s their teeth clashing together. His shock lasted just long enough for Tony to bite his tongue, the taste of copper flooding both of their mouths. Steve made a noise that sounded remarkably like a growl, one of his hands letting go of his shield in order to hold Tony’s head still as he took control of the kiss. Tony didn’t relinquish the control easily but Steve would be danmed to allow the man a win after he himself had clearly won the battle. 

The small gasp that sounded to the right of them wasn’t loud enough to make either man stop their new battle. 

Steve didn’t know the first thing about kissing, nor did he think that much mattered, as he wouldn’t classify this as a kiss. A kiss was what he shared with Peggy; a kiss was soft and expressed love. This was about power and dominance. And danm it all Tony was going to submit!

Steve grunted as he was shoved backwards, the unexpected movement causing him to fall back. He heard Tony shout something breathlessly before Steve was on him again. The armor was moving under his fingers and legs. Steve realized Tony was taking the armor off; the metal pinched his skin as it fell off the other man. Steve practically ripped the helmet off Tony’s head once it released his hand grasping Tony’s jaw to as he slammed their mouths together again. 

He could feel Tony’s hand on his own outfit, the nimble fingers working the padded uniform off with ease. Steve realized quickly he had become bare on the chest, and took a quick second to fist Tony’s shirt and tear it in two. 

Their movements were rushed and harsh, neither one took a moment to insure the others pleasure. It was not an enjoyable experience for either man, but neither could stop. Steve wasn’t really sure how it all happened. It seemed like a blink from when he’d been yelling at Tony to yield and than he was lying on top of him; both were naked, bruised, scratched and desperately trying to catch their breath. 

Steve knew he should say something, apologize or talk about what had occurred. Instead he found himself pulling out, ignoring the grimace on Tony’s face, he stood grabbed his pants and walked away. It was wrong; it went against everything he stood for. He was supposed to be the good guy. And somehow all of this still felt like Tony’s fault. 

For the next two days Steve avoided Tony like the plague. If he was in a room he’d not enter it, if Tony entered a room while Steve was in there Steve quickly left. Steve couldn’t sleep, his actions from that day kept him tossing and turning every night. That second night he gave up and headed into the living room, Bruce said watching TV helped him sleep. Steve figured it was worth a shot. He had JARVIS turn everything on, he wasn’t even sure what he was watching, but it was enough of a distraction to start calming his nerves… until someone sat right next to him.

Steve turned his head slowly already knowing who it was. He stood up, tossing and turning was better than being with the man.

“I know losing your cherry is hard sometimes, but really you could at least try to be manly about it.” Tony’s carefree voice sent a torrent of anger through Steve.  
He turned his attention back to the genius. He didn’t say anything but he gave him a glare that was fit for Hitler himself.

“Or is it that it’s not that you lost your cherry, it’s that you lost it to me. And not pouty lipped Carter?” Tony stood moving so he was right in front of Steve. “Or did Bucky beat me to your cherry?”

Steve punched him; he stood there more than a little smug watching the billionaire pick himself off the ground. Tony came right back in front of him again. “That it?” Tony asked whipping the blood from his bottom lip. He pushed Steve back.

Steve put a foot back so not to fall; he fought to keep his cool. He knew he should just walk away, go back to his room and ignore the man. But Tony was smirking, that smug pretentious smirk. He lunged. 

The fight was far quicker, Tony didn’t have his armor and Steve was angry. The living room was trashed, Steve laid naked on top of Tony, angry to be in this situation again. Steve slowly picked himself up, his hand going to the bite on his shoulder. He was ashamed with himself, last time Tony had at least been on an equal ground with him, this time Tony hadn’t had any hope. He looked down at the other man expecting to see him grimacing in pain, or at least looking away. But Tony was just laying there, hands behind his head staring right at him, grinning smugly at the solider. Steve realized than, Tony saw this as winning. Steve hauled the man up and punched him, he had enough sense to pull the punch so he didn’t kill the man but it was still with enough force that Tony went down and Steve knew he wouldn’t get up again tonight. 

In the weeks that followed the amount of times Steve would find himself in a fight with Tony grew, going from about once a week to sometimes twice a day. Every time it ended the same way though with them both naked and sore. 

Steve knew they needed to stop; their arrangement wasn’t going to continue to work. It was painful, he knew enough about the intercourse between two men to know they should be using some sort of oil or lotion. Neither ever stopped long enough to get it though. Steve had won every fight sense the first time they’d had intercourse. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that was due to his own skill. He knew he was good and he was proud to say before the intercourse he won more times than he lost, but now it didn’t even seem like Tony was trying to win any more. Which made Steve all the madder, but he didn’t stop. He knew if he stopped if he didn’t give Tony what he wanted they might have a chance of going back to ‘normal’ but he never did. 

The others were carful never to comment on the rather disgusting actions. Well Steve thought they were disgusting. The others almost seemed like they pitied them, an emotion he didn’t like associated with him.

He was coming home late, far after midnight. He knew the others would be asleep, which is what he was counting on. He stepped out of the elevator setting his keys down as he strolled toward the kitchen. It was pure chance that he passed the hallway just as Tony stepped out from the bathroom. The man was wearing his normal white wife beater with black sweats. But it wasn’t what he was wearing that struck Steve; it was the pained expression on the man’s face and the way his hand was holding the back of his hip. 

Steve felt dread settle in his stomach, he knew it was uncomfortable without the oil or lotion and he knew they should have been using it. He’d even seen the blood, but Tony never seemed to be hurt, he never looked like it affected him. 

Tony looked up realizing someone was there and for a second he looked like a kid that just got caught stealing from their parent’s wallet. A moment later he stood up straight, the air of indifference surrounding him again. 

“You need something Capsical?”

Steve stared at him a moment longer before walking past him toward his room. He paused before he entered the room, looking back at Tony who was limping into his own bedroom.

Shame filled him, he may not like Tony, hell he could even hate Tony. But that didn’t give him the right to hurt him like this. He turned away from his room, going into the bathroom and pulling out the ointment that Banner had them use for cuts. He moved silently to Tony’s room slipping in without a noise.

He half expected the talking computer to rat him out, but it stayed blessedly silent. Steve could make out Tony’s form on the bed, a light sheet tossed over him. He moved sinking down on the mattress.

Tony immediately bolted up, but Steve was ready for it, capturing Tony’s wrists in his. They stared at each other for a long moment. 

“Steve, why are you in my room?” Tony’s voice lacked the normal condescension, instead replaced with genuine curiosity. “I... won’t do it in my bed.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond but instead sighed and gently pushed Tony back to lying on the bed face down. Tony was tense, his muscles taught. Steve took a few minutes rubbing his hand over Tony’s back. He wasn’t sure why but he felt the need to make the man relax, it bothered him that Tony only associated him with… He sighed and pulled the man’s pants down to just past his butt.

Tony tried to turn around about Steve kept a hand firmly on Tony’s lower back. He reached forward showing him the ointment. Tony relaxed ever so slightly. “Cap, it’s fine. I don’t need that.” He said softly. “You shouldn’t feel guilty, I know I’m irresistible.” Tony said though the joke lacked its normal flare. 

Steve snorted gently spreading the man’s butt cheeks. The skin was red and inflamed he knew he’d torn the genius more than a few times. He slowly applied the ointment, surprised he felt no desire for anything more here. He felt no anger or hatred for the man, only the desire to right the wrong he’d done. 

He wasn’t sure for how long he sat gently applying the ointment but, he was surprised that when he was done and he looked up, Tony was asleep. 

Steve stood up slowly so as not to wake the man. Tony looked like a completely different person when he slept. He looked… he looked a lot like Howard. What was he doing to Howard’s son? He wished he could just stop, he should. Specially after seeing the damage he’d done the man. He should stop. Even while he thought those words though he knew he wouldn’t. 

Steve paused at the door, watching Tony. He rolled over and the light from the man’s chest giving an almost moon light effect on the room. Steve found his mouth dry and his eyes burning. All the years of being small and bullied had never made him feel as pathetic as he did in that moment. He couldn’t stop.

And he didn’t stop. Over the next week their fights continued, neither one mentioning the previous night. The only difference was now Steve always had a small bottle of oil with him. He’d never forget the first time he had pulled it out and Tony’s eyes practically glittered in mirth, the look had made the super solider pause. The pause had been just long enough to earn him a head butt from a snickering Tony. 

Steve was lounging on the roof, when he realized things between him and Stark were different now. They still verbally fought, but only for the purpose of starting a ‘fight’ no longer did they even really attempt to physically fight. They just… well Tony would call it fucking. And as disturbing as the word was Steve had to agree it fit them. 

Time passed, and Steve found himself wondering if he was still hurting Tony. The oil made things a lot easier on him but he had no idea if it was actually helping Tony. It’s not liked they ever talked about their interactions. Well Tony might bring it up crassly to start a fight, but it was never serious. 

He wanted to know, to know if he was still hurting Tony. He didn’t want to do it during their fights though, didn’t seem like the right time. 

He decided he’d do it the same way he did it last time. Sneaking into the man’s room, he carried the ointment with him, just in case. 

Tony noticed him the moment he entered the room this time. His eyes going to Steve’s hand where the ointment was, he let out a small sigh.

“Steve, go to bed.” He said softly. There was something different about Tony when they were in his room. Steve wasn’t sure why, but there was. The man seemed less guarded and yet, at the same time, more wary. It was like, somehow, in this room, Steve could really hurt him. 

Steve came to stand by the bed, sitting down on the edge. Tony stared at him, his eyes almost begging the man to leave, as if the kindness Steve showed hurt him more than his fist ever could. Steve didn’t understand it. He gently put his hands on Tony’s pants and finally Tony turned onto his stomach with an irritated sigh. 

It was obvious from the redness Tony had to still be sore, but Steve was relieved to see that the tearing was gone. He put some ointment on the skin just to be sure after he was done he stayed sitting there as he stared at his hand which laid over the right side of Tony’s butt cheek. Before he even realized what he was doing he gave the butt check a firm yet gentle squeeze.

Tony gasped his head twisting around to stare at Steve, eyes searching him.

Steve stared back at him, giving the butt cheek another small squeeze, before he stood up and quickly left the room. He felt like he’d just gotten away with something, which was ridiculous. He’d been sleeping with the man for months now and somehow squeezing the man’s backside was too intimate? His heart pounded hard in his chest his stomach was doing flips. Why? It was just Stark.

The next day was awkward and Steve was surprised to notice Tony was avoiding him. That was a change. He knew where the genius was of course, everyone knew when Tony was avoiding something he was in his lab. He let the eccentric man have his space during the day; he waited until everyone had gone to bed before slipping down into the lab. 

Tony was bent over a counter his attention solely on his project. Steve slipped behind him pressing his body into the man which pushed Tony into the counter. Tony let out a grunt. He turned so he could stare up at Steve. “Steve…” He looked like he wanted to say something else but nothing else came.

Steve dipped his head capturing Tony’s lips. Not like their normal clash of teeth and lips, but instead a slow kiss with gentle pressure. His tongue moving slowly against Tony’s lips not demanding for entrance but instead asking for it. 

Tony let out a small whimper as his lips parted to allow the super soldiers tongue into his mouth. His own tongue coming out to meet Steve’s. Steve groaned his hold tightening around Tony.

A gasp escaped Tony’s mouth before he turned his head away. “N-not here… why don’t we go to the roof? Or the training room?”

Steve stared down at the troubled man. His mind thinking back to all their ‘fights’ not once had it been in Tony’s lab or room. Always, it was neutral ground. He ducked his head again kissing Tony firmly once more before pulling away. He handed Tony a screw driver and headed back upstairs, leaving Tony standing in the lab.

He went straight to his room shutting and locking the door behind him. He understood that Tony didn’t want to engage in sex in personal places, that he saw what they did as not personal. The thought of sex not being personal boggled his mind. Yet, even as he thought it, he realized it was true. The acts that Tony and him engaged in on a normal basis weren’t for intimacy, they sure as hell weren’t for the others pleasure. They were power driven combined with lust, and Steve didn’t want it anymore.

He moved to his dresser pulling out a picture of Howard and Peggy. He’d found the picture mysteriously on his bed one day. He kept it without a second thought. Typically when he looked at the picture it was at Peggy, but this time his eyes were locked to Howard's. He wondered if the man would kill him if he knew what he’d been doing to his son. His son who was so different than him and yet so similar. His thumb ran over Howard’s face. 

He knew now that he had really hated Tony before. Not because he was a bully or a jerk, but because that every time he looked at the man all he could see was the life he’d lost. How Tony should have grown up knowing Steve as an Uncle not as a friend. He should have been there when Tony was born and at birthday parties. He should have been able to protect him from people who wanted to hurt him, and instead he became someone that hurt him. 

He didn’t hate Tony anymore. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the man, but he knew he didn’t hate him. He didn’t want to hurt Tony anymore either. Unfortunately, he also didn’t want to stop sleeping with the man. 

If he didn’t want to hurt him and he did want to sleep with him, it really only left one option. He groaned laying back on his bed. Tony would never agree to this. He chuckled to himself, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to agree to this. 

The next morning, Steve started a fight with Tony first thing. Much to the rest of the team’s dismay, Tony however seemed relieved at this.

He yanked Tony down into the gym and thrust him against the wall. Tony let out a groan his hands fisting Steve’s shirt, pulling it up.

Steve gave him exactly what he wanted, pounding into him with as much strength as always. However that night he came to Tony’s room again.  
Tony sat up, clear confusion. “Steve, you were just here two nights ago, you haven’t-”

Steve cut him off with a soft kiss that had Tony melting before he caught himself. 

“Why?” He asked sounding almost childlike.

Steve ran a gentle hand over Tony’s cheek, feeling the stubble and softness of the man’s beard.

“Steve why?” He repeated almost desperately. 

The hand drifted down to Tony’s arc reactor, he found it curious that is started glowing brighter.

“Steve.” Tony said sharply. “Might I remind you, you hate me.”

Steve looked up at that, staring into Tony’s eyes. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t hate you, not at all. Not even a little bit.” He paused, “Let me stay?”

Tony’s hands shook slightly as he slid over and lifted the covers for Steve. Steve crawled into the large bed pulling Tony flush against him. 

After that night, Steve never slept in his old room again, and Tony no longer cared where they ‘fought’. Or, as Steve liked to call it, made love, which Tony still teased him about.

Steve had been born in the 1920’s, he died in the 1940’s, he existed 2010’s and, at 2012, he found he could actually live. Whatever tomorrow brought, he knew he’d never forget the man he loved and once hated.


End file.
